Love and War
by The Integral of Awesome
Summary: Sam and Freddie were having sex. F/F F/M


Love and War

Sam and Freddie were having sex. Sam and Freddie were having _a lot_ of sex.

It had started out innocently enough. Sam had said, "We should make-out," so they had. Then Sam had said, "I wanna try something out," so Freddie got his first blow-job. Then Sam had said, "Aren't you ever gonna reciprocate, dork?" so Freddie fingered her.

Pretty soon, they were doing it every weekend and even sometimes during the week, if Sam got bored and Freddie didn't have to study. It wasn't sweet or gentle or loving. It was hot mouths and willing bodies, but at least it was something. They didn't talk about their _feelings_. Freddie had tried once and Sam had just said, "Shut up and get inside me, Fredward."

At the end of the night, though- The thing was, it was never who they wanted it to be. Freddie had always held a torch for brown hair and big doe-eyes, and Sam- Well, Freddie had suspected something there since he walked in on her and Suzy Zamblanski in the supply closet senior year and she'd said, "Buzz off, Benson."

Still, Freddie never pretended it was Carly on top of him, never imagined Carly's hands or lips or _teeth_ because Carly wouldn't fuck Freddie like Sam did. Carly wouldn't even fuck Freddie. And Sam certainly wasn't pretending he was Carly (not like she'd done with Suzy Zamblanski, which had ended loudly and painfully and Freddie had been there to hear it all and Carly had never even known). Freddie was very clearly a _man_, and Sam said, "I swing both ways. As long as you've got fire between your legs, I can work with you."

But the sense that they were doing this _because of _Carly never went away. Because Carly was across the country, having a grand old time at school, and Sam hadn't gotten in anywhere but community college and Freddie had been too scared to leave home. And even if Carly wasn't in mother-loving New York, it wasn't like she'd been doing anything with either of them when she was there.

Then Carly was home for Thanksgiving, and she actually _walked in_ on them because she'd managed to get on an earlier flight and she'd wanted to surprise them. It was awkward as all get out, and Freddie wasn't sure if it was the start of a fantasy or a nightmare. And, of course, Carly had wanted to talk about it.

"So," there was a really long pause, possibly because Carly had just seen her two best friends riding each other, all naked skin and sweat, "you and Sam?"

Sam had left immediately, shouting that she was going to shower as she all but ran from the room. Freddie had pulled on some clothes, but he still felt pretty naked. "Sort of. Not really. It's complicated."

Carly didn't look satisfied with that answer. "Are you or aren't you, it's a fairly simple question."

Freddie looked into Carly's eyes, the ones he loved and hated and then loved again. He didn't want Carly anymore. Once upon a time, she'd been all he could imagine, but that wasn't the case anymore. If she offered- But she never would. Even if he didn't still want her, that didn't mean he wasn't still getting over her. He'd shaped his life around her and her web-show and her _everything_ for so long that it was hard to figure out where he fit without her.

Instead of saying any of that, he said, "No, it's really not," because Sam was the same way, and they weren't just doing this because they both wanted Carly, they were doing it because they didn't know what to do in the absence of Carly. It was comfort and it was frustration and it was resentment and it was friendship and it was - Complicated.

Carly left it at that, but Freddie had a feeling that Sam's conversation with her didn't go quite as well because when Sam snuck into his room that night, she didn't immediately go for his groin. Instead, she just curled up next to him, and he was pretty sure she'd been crying.

It made sense. Carly had always known the way Freddie felt about her. Even when she was mostly ignoring it for convenience's sake, she'd known, but with Sam… Carly had never quite realized what was fairly obvious to Freddie. Carly hadn't seen how, in their last years of high school, Sam's friendship had morphed into something more.

So, Freddie held her that night.

Carly left without talking much more to either of them. Freddie couldn't really tell if Carly was pulling away from Sam or if Sam was pushing Carly away, but the entire situation was screwed up no matter what. Freddie tried to talk about it once, but Sam just huffed around his cock and said, "Shut up or you get my teeth."

So, when winter break came around, Sam and Freddie were still having a lot of sex, and Sam and Carly were barely on speaking terms. It was weird for Freddie to be the go-between for his two best friends after years of Carly being Sam and his common ground. Eventually Freddie got fed up and told Sam that she was being an idiot and to just fix things with Carly already, which made Sam glare, but she wasn't angry enough to not slip her hand down the front of his pants, so he figured they were fine.

With Christmas came yelling. _A lot_ of yelling. The kind of yelling that would have put Suzy Zamblanski to shame, even after having Sam accidentally called her "Carly." There was also a lot of throwing stuff, but it was all on Sam's end, and that was just how Sam showed affection, so when the lamps started flying, Freddie finally knew they'd be alright.

And they were. Mostly.

Sam and Carly stopped actively hating each other, and instead just floated around in a giant pool of awkwardness on the couch on either side of Freddie until eventually Sam said, "I would totally bang Scarlet Johansson," and Freddie said, "Ditto," and gave her a fist bump without really registering it. But then Carly burst out laughing and all the tension in the room was suddenly broken and dissipated and they all joined in, not really sure what the joke was.

Eventually, Sam and Freddie stopped having sex. One day, Sam walked into his dorm room and said, "I'm not here to ravish you, so just keep it in your pants, Benson. You are, however, gonna take me out to dinner so that I can tell you about the killer chick I have a date with this weekend." And just like that, they were just friends again.

It was a little weird to go back to being just friends after all the sex, but the transition was necessary because Sam and Freddie the Couple would crash and burn faster than all the guys who tried to pick Freddie up when Sam dragged him to that gay bar but Sam and Freddie the Friends could be great. Plus, it was Sam, and she said stuff like, "Please, I've had your penis inside me, and your personality may be shit, but get them back to bed and you just might have a shot," which probably should have been a lot more awkward than it was, but it was _Sam_.

That "killer chick" (whose actual name was Amanda) ended up lasting for a hell of a lot more than one date, and Sam even introduced her to Freddie and Carly once Carly was home for summer break. Freddie had already met her a couple of times, but they all pretended like he hadn't so that Carly wouldn't feel left out.

Freddie started dating, too. Real, live, not one of his childhood best friends people. "You're, like, a real boy, Freddork," Sam had said. He'd shoved her shoulder, and she'd stuck out her tongue, and it had been nice.

Carly dated, too. She dated a lot, which was inevitable because people had always liked Carly. For a while, neither Sam nor Freddie could hear about her latest boyfriend without wincing a little. Then eventually it was just Sam. Then, finally, it wasn't even her


End file.
